I dream of ice melting and refreezing.

I dream of a man who becomes a god and then becomes a man again and again and again.

I wake up before dawn, determined. My problem has been that the rules changed, and I’ve not caught up yet; I’ve been playing the wrong game entirely. I’ve been trying to understand the old Mayor Longsight – the one for whom power meant domination. He made sense to me – he wanted to lead by being the strongest, the wisest, the best and most fierce. So, of course, the destruction of the blanks was his aim. What better way to show his might and to declare his new intentions?

But now he is a new man – this “resurrection” has changed him. For him, power now looks like purity of soul, and he is the one with the keys to that particular door. He has made himself the only way. His is a promise of certainty. Of eternity.

Whatever doubts I have about Longsight’s miracles – his resurrection and his taking away of another’s ink – I realize that the most important thing isn’t what I believe: it’s what Mayor Longsight himself believes. And there is no disciple more faithful than him; he believes in himself even more than the flatterer Jack Minnow.

But I have a secret, a secret I’ve been holding in my hand – the truth about Jack Minnow. I’m ready to raise the stakes.

When Seb next visits he frowns at me.

“Did you hurt Mel?”

“Seb, I promise you. I haven’t hurt or killed Mel – she is … was … my friend.”

“Verity says you don’t care about friends,” Seb says matter-of-factly as he unpacks his latest offering of food. “She says you only care about yourself.”

I try to swallow back tears, but Seb looks into my eyes and envelopes me in a hug.

“Verity cries too,” Seb says, holding me tight. “You’re my friend, Leora. That’s why I help you and your mum.”

“You’re an incredible friend, Seb. And I’m trying to fix things.”

Seb brushes a tear from my cheek. I wish it was safe for him to give Verity a message from me, but it would be reckless – dangerous. But, an idea sparks in my mind. Seb must see it because he says, “What? What are you thinking about?”

“You’re good at passing on messages, aren’t you?” I ask.

“I’m very good. Especially secret messages.” He grins proudly. “No one expects me to have secrets.” I laugh.

“If I gave you a message, would you make sure it got to the right person? You don’t have to. You can say no and I won’t mind.”

He thinks for a moment. “Who should I take it to?” he says with a smile.

“Do you know Karl Novak?” I ask and Seb nods. “Could you get a note to him?”